An Informal Introduction (Informal Romance Book 3)

by Heather Gray

  “How are you this morning, Mr. Taylor?” Lily smiled at her patient as she circled her fingers around his wrist to check his pulse.

  “Much better. I wish they’d let me out of here.”

  “The doctors are being cautious, and despite feeling better, your wound is serious and you underwent a lengthy surgery. Staying with us a bit longer won’t do you any harm.”

  “That’s what I keep telling him.” Whitehall spoke from a shadowy corner.

  Lily nodded to him then rounded and gave her attention back to Mr. Taylor. “Your breakfast tray should be here any minute. The night nurse told me you were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at four o’clock this morning.”

  “I’m an early riser.” The patient plucked at lint on the hospital blanket. “And it’s noisy in here.”

  Lily laughed. “You have that right. The only people who rest well in ICU are the ones who are too ill to realize what a madhouse it is or too tired to care.”

  Mr. Taylor tilted his head to the side, quizzical. “There was a lot of yelling last night. What was that about?”

  The previous night’s goings-on had been discussed during the morning meeting. It was a tragic situation. “A family got some bad news and emotions ran high.”

  Sadness tugged at the corners of his mouth, and true empathy shone in his eyes. “Life isn’t always easy.”

  She resisted the urge to pat him on the hand. “No, it’s not, and sometimes people are put into unimaginable situations and forced to make impossible choices.”

  Whitehall spoke up. “Do people often react with anger when they receive bad news?”

  Lily’s eyes flitted to the Secret Service agent. “Everybody handles stress differently. Some people shine like cut crystal, others like rusty garbage pails. It’s not our place to judge.”

  “Someone getting irate and carrying on like last night — that must make it harder on all of you.” Mr. Taylor scrutinized Lily far too closely for someone who’d been shot not long ago.

  She slanted her head to the side, considering his words. “Both are hard, but not for the same reasons.” It was true. Her heart ached when she worked with those families who were the epitome of kindness despite whatever tragedy they faced. When dealing with a belligerent family member, though, her heart tumbled and somersaulted inside her chest. Both hurt, but in different ways.

  A knock interrupted them. “Breakfast!”

  Lily stepped over to the door and accepted the tray with a “Thank you,” effectively blocking the deliverer’s line of sight into the room. Then she angled back around to Mr. Taylor. “You’re off the liquid diet. We’ll see how you do with some real food today. It smells good.”

  Once the patient was settled in with his meal, Lily left him alone and went out to the desk. He didn’t need constant care, but since she wasn’t permitted to take on any other patients as long as he was in ICU, she was often at loose ends. She contemplated starting a game of solitaire when Agent Whitehall trailed her out of the room.

  “Hospitals are boring.”

  Lily smirked. “You don’t have to stay here, you know. I’m sure there are other assignments. You could always ask for a transfer.”

  “Nah. We go way back. My family owes him. I learned about the order coming down from the White House and asked for the assignment.”

  Squinting, she searched the agent’s face. “You talk to him like you were in the military together, but you’re too young, aren’t you? You could have served under him, but not with him.”

  Agent Whitehall nodded in the direction of the hospital room. “He served with my older brother. Saved his life. Like I said, my family owes him. No matter what his politics are, he’ll always have my vote. He’s as solid as they come.”

  She wasn’t overly familiar with his platform, but Taylor’s campaign to capture the Republican nomination for president was no secret. “More of a liberal, are you?”

  His nod was crisp and to-the-point, much like the man. “Born and raised, but that doesn’t guarantee my vote. I won’t choose politics over character. Taylor might be a conservative, but he’s got integrity. I trust him to say what he means and mean what he says. That’s worth something in my book.”

  Silence settled between them. Lily was done with the chart, and Mr. Taylor, finished with breakfast, was asleep. She didn’t want to disturb him, especially when she had no medical reason to be in his room. Under strict orders to keep watch at all times, though, she couldn’t wander far.

  “So what was all the ruckus last night? I wasn’t here, but Taylor’s dad mentioned it, too.”

  Lily gave him her best glare. “I can’t discuss that.”

  The corner of Whitehall’s mouth tilted up. “I’m pretty sure my clearance is higher than yours.”

  “Clearance has nothing to do with confidentiality, and you know it.”

  Hoping to end the conversation, Lily returned her attention to the computer screen. He stopped prodding, so it must have worked. She couldn’t discuss the details, but she’d heard about the episode along with everyone else during the morning briefing. A woman had been declared brain dead. Her husband and the father of their three children had understandably not taken the news well. He’d just been a bit more vocal — and physical — than most. Given that security had been called in, Whitehall had to know the details of the incident. The Secret Service agents posted in the unit would have been fully aware.

  “You patch things up with your boyfriend?”

  Lily’s eyes shot to the agent. “You presume too much.”

  He chuckled. “Touchy, huh? Why? He seems decent enough.”

  She frowned as she tried to sort it out for herself. “We only met a couple weeks ago, and he’s talking happily-ever-after. Is that weird?”

  Whitehall shook his head. “He been married before?”

  Lily answered with a return headshake.

  “Had any serious relationships? Live-in girlfriend?”

  She shook her head again. “He says he’s been waiting for God to bring the right woman into his life.”

  “Sounds like he’s decided you’re that woman.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “You seem to understand better than I do.” Lily narrowed her eyes. “Why is he in such a hurry to move the relationship forward?”

  Whitehall leaned back in his chair. “I can’t tell you what’s going on inside your man’s head, but I’ll let you in on a little secret about men in general.”

  “Give. I’m sure I’ll find your insight fascinating.” She propped one elbow on the desk and cupped her chin in her hand.

  “Your man’s not in a hurry to involve himself with just any woman. If he had a string of divorces behind him, it would be different. That’s not the case here. He’s obviously waited this long to get married for a reason. Now that he’s found the woman he believes is right for him, marriage is going to be the only thing on his mind. Your trooper’s smart enough to know what he’s got with you and man enough to want to get you locked down before you come to your senses. That’s the way men think.”

  Lily sat back in her chair again and fidgeted with the hem of her scrub top. “Doesn’t he worry that we’re going too fast? That we might not be well-suited?”

  Whitehall shook his head. “Men don’t think that way. We don’t wait around twiddling our thumbs while we try to decide whether our feelings are real or not. Once a man knows how he feels about a woman, he acts on it. Plain and simple.”

  Lily raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? It seems to me that most people these days have long engagements.”

  “Trust me, it’s at the woman’s insistence. Men would get it over with if given the choice. They’d put that little gold band on her finger and their name on her Social Security card as soon as she accepts the proposal.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You make all men sound barbaric.”

  “Now you’re getting it. And if you find one you can love despite that, then you grab ahold and hang on, because the next one won
’t be any better. Barbary is written into our DNA.”

  Lily wasn’t ready to buy off on the agent’s explanation of men and relationships, but he’d given her something to think about. Even though she was tempted to protest and say all men couldn’t be like that, a part of her thrilled at the notion that Caleb wanted to make such a public claim to her.

  The senior Mr. Taylor was settled into his son’s room, and the night nurse had been briefed on the uneventful day. The younger Mr. Taylor had politely demanded newspapers. He was currently devouring every article written about the shooting while Fox News played on the television. His campaign advisor wasn’t allowed on the unit, but the two had shared several phone calls throughout the day.

  As Lily collected her belongings, an uncomfortable tingle made its way down her spine. When she glanced up, Agent Whitehall was there, his right shoulder leaning against a locker a few down from hers. “I’m escorting you home tonight.”

  Her heart rate kicked into high gear as she took in his somber expression. “Why?”

  “Word leaked that it was an assassination attempt. We tried to keep that part under wraps and let the public think it was a random shooting. It was a long shot, and it blew up today. Hospital security is dealing with a media frenzy in the lobby. They had better step it up, or every nurse leaving work is going to be questioned by reporters. I’m taking you out a back way, driving you home, staying the night, and bringing you back in the morning.”

  “You’re staying the night?” Did she grumble about the media, an assassination attempt, or the fact that her car would be left in the hospital garage? Of course not. She went straight for the spending-the-night part of the conversation.

  “I’ll be on the couch, another agent will be in the lobby, and county police have increased patrols in your area.”

  It was much worse than with Mr. Miller. Media had circled the hospital then, but he had only been a local hero. Reporters had been keenly interested, but they hadn’t descended like a starving wake of vultures eager to rip apart the exposed flesh of the vulnerable. Mr. Taylor, on the other hand, was a national figure. Millions of Americans felt personally invested in him and clamored to know about his well-being, and the media would give no quarter.

  Lily sighed with resignation. “Very well.”

  She trudged after Agent Whitehall through various doors and corridors until they got to the cafeteria’s kitchen. He led her out through a service door to a waiting car.

  Caleb sat in his truck and waited for Lily to arrive home from work. It was his night off, and he needed to see her. Things had been unsettled between them the last couple times they’d talked, and it gnawed at him. Her whole needing space thing had come out of the blue. He wouldn’t rest well until they resolved their differences, even if he didn’t entirely understand what those differences were.

  He growled in frustration as he tapped out a steady beat on the steering wheel while keeping his eyes glued to the front of Lily’s building.

  What if she parks on the other side and goes in the back?

  Caleb was about to dial her phone when a dark sedan drove by on its way around the building. Lily rode in the passenger seat.

  What in the world…?

  Faster than a Texas wildfire spreads, he was out of his truck and entering the apartment’s lobby. He arrived at the elevators in time to meet Lily and the Secret Service agent who’d earlier leaned against his truck in the hospital parking garage.

  He could tell the minute she caught sight of him. Her eyes widened and her cheeks filled with color. Guilt? Or something else?

  The agent, though, only nodded. “Join us for the ride up?”

  Once the elevator doors closed behind them, she took a step closer to Caleb. “There’s a problem with the media, and Agent Whitehall thought it prudent to escort me home.”

  The agent’s eyes sparkled. “I’m spending the night, too. You know, to keep her safe.”

  Lily scowled at the agent. “On the couch. With another agent in the lobby.”

  Caleb took a deep breath and let it out. His eyes never leaving Whitehall’s face, he said, “I’ll spend the night. I have my off-duty weapon and will be able to give her a ride to work in the morning.”

  She paled. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  The agent’s face remained somber, but his eyes continued to laugh. “Yeah… I don’t think that’s our best play here.”

  Caleb stepped closer to the agent. No way was he letting Whitehall spend the night at Lily’s.

  The woman in question elbowed her way between the two men and placed her hand on Caleb’s chest. “What has gotten into you? This is not a competition.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Dots danced in front of his eyes as cameras started flashing. “What the…?”

  Whitehall pushed the button, closing the doors and taking them up to a different floor. Then he spoke into his communicator. “Media on her floor. Get them out now.”

  They got off the elevator three levels up from Lily’s apartment. It wouldn’t take long for the vultures to catch up with them. As they exited, though, Caleb reached back in and tapped the button for the top floor — and every one in between. That would buy them some time, but they still needed to find a place to conceal themselves. Overeager reporters could climb the stairs as easily as use an elevator.

  Whitehall waved them down the hallway. With not much more than a couple of clicks, the door to a furnace room was unlocked. “It’ll be tight, but let’s ride it out in here. My men will remove the reporters.”

  Lily entered first, Caleb right behind her. Whitehall came in last and relocked the door. “Make sure your phones are off. We don’t want a call from Grandma giving away our location.”

  No sooner did the words settle over them than feet ran past their hiding spot. Lily shifted behind Caleb, reaching for her phone most likely. He extracted his from its case on his belt and thumbed it off.

  The moment the echo of feet passed, Caleb took a micro-step toward Whitehall — all their confined space would allow. His mouth next to the man’s ear, he murmured, “I’ll stay the night. You keep everyone away from her building.”

  She moved again. A pointy jab to his kidneys told him she’d crossed her arms. They were in a furnace room, so she couldn’t be cold. That left angry or scared. He hoped for the former. Anger he could handle. Fear… Thinking of Lily being afraid made him want to sink his fist into something — or someone.

  “How do they know where I live? For that matter, how did they find out I’m his nurse?” A fly walking on water would have sounded like a train whistle compared to the volume of her words.

  She didn’t say who her patient was, but Caleb knew. He twisted around in the tight space. It wasn’t in his nature to turn his back to the threat, but right now Lily was more important.

  She hugged her shoulder bag close to her body, arms crossed over it. Even in the darkness, the tension in her posture was visible. He hauled her lightly into a hug. “It’s all about…”

  “Money.” The men’s responses were in perfect unison. A team of synchronized swimmers couldn’t have done better.

  Caleb rubbed her back. “Someone figured out a way to capitalize and sold the information. It’s the American way.”

  “Who would do that?” Lily sought answers, despite the fact that they sometimes couldn’t be found.

  They fell silent as more feet ran down the hall.

  Once the feet passed, Caleb answered. “It could be another nurse. A janitor. Even the person who brings the meal tray.”

  She shook her head. “How would they find my address, though?”

  Whitehall interjected, throwing the answer over his shoulder. “All a reporter needs is a name. If they’re good at their job, they can figure the rest out. None of that matters, though. You need to stay focused. You’re no good to anyone if you’re hysterical.”

  Caleb grinned at Whitehall’s faux pas.

  “Hysterical?” Lily’
s voice rose an octave. “You think I’m hysterical?”

  The agent sighed. “That came out wrong.”

  Whitehall must have received a message over his communicator then, because a second later, he unlocked the door and stepped out into the hall. “Come on, the floor’s been cleared.”

  Caleb gave Lily a quick squeeze before moving away from her and into the hallway. Turning to Whitehall, he asked, “That fast?”

  The agent nodded. “Neighbors had already complained. The police were only a minute or two behind us pulling into the parking lot. My man in the lobby explained the situation, and they got it cleared. They’re rounding up stragglers on the other floors, but the stairwell’s secure so we can go down to her apartment unseen.”

  The men made a move toward the stairs, Lily buffered between them.

  Once they were safely in her apartment, Caleb crossed his arms and faced the Secret Service agent. He had an uncanny urge to flex. “I can look after her tonight. You just keep the reporters away from the building.”

  Whitehall removed a couple business cards from his wallet and handed one to each of them. “Call my cell if anything comes up. We’re stepping up security now that they’ve targeted Lily.”

  Caleb didn’t like the sound of that. Targeted.

  Whitehall bent in close to Lily’s ear and whispered something.

  Then he stopped in front of Caleb, and his words held a quiet threat. “There is more to you than you want people to know, Trooper Graham. I will see you forcibly removed if your secrets endanger her in any way.”

  “Does stir fry sound all right?” Fatigue resonated in Lily’s words.

  “Go relax. I can cook dinner.” She’d changed out of her scrubs and insisted she was fine, but exhaustion weighed her shoulders down more than a fifty-pound sack of flour.